“Who are you, Lucy Ayene?”, I asked myself. Trapped within the confines of my own mind, I am too aware of every thought passing through it, as if I was outside, looking in. At night I often lie awake ruminating endlessly about what’s wrong with me, about death, and about the meaning of existence itself. At times my arms and legs feel like they don’t belong within my body. But most of the time, my mind feel like it is operating apart from the body that contains it. I am constantly fighting for my reality. I don’t know who I am and where I belong anymore.
Hi. My name is Lucy Ayene and this is my story. So far life has been nothing but a metaphorical journey. Waking up in the morning is the most difficult part of the day. Instead of feeling lovely and well motivated, I feel all groggy and irritated. A constant feeling of fear and sting is there in the heart and this is just the beginning of the nightmare for what you would call a day. A small decision is the major fight. How long would it take for you to decide getting up from the bed and start a day? That’s not a decision right? You wake up, you feel good, you think of the day plan it in your head and start your day. But for me? That too was a fight. First and foremost, I used to spend almost 2 hours figuring out am I still dreaming or this is real. Well, it never felt real anyway but still often times I literally felt like I am living inside my dream. If I somehow managed to differentiate my reality and my dreams I would have to struggle through the next step. Lucy, Should you wake up now? No, this is not me. I am not here. If I wake up, I will not feel me. The another Lucy, the evil one will take my place. Jeez! There is just one Lucy. It’s all in your head. Wake up and start your day baby girl! After giving some motivation I somehow managed to drag myself to the bathroom. In the mirror, my eyes looked red and puffy from crying. That was as expected. But I was surprised to notice that I looked older than I should be. I didn’t expect to look good and pretty. I looked down at my legs and scars, and they didn’t look like mine. Alarmed, I splashed my face with cold water and looked again. The reflection didn’t show who I thought I was. As I washed my hands, they didn’t look like mine either. They looked too big. I was wearing bands. It was all very startling and confusing. I felt a little panicky and didn’t want to think about it too hard. Disoriented, I banged into the doorway on my way out of the restroom and thought, Why is this door so small? Why am I taking up so much space in this hall? Whose hands are those? Whose eyes and face was I seeing? Wait.. Is this still my dream? Where am I? Am I inside my head or am I here in this world? My thoughts began to race and I started having trouble catching my breath. I pinched myself hard to figure out what’s really happening. Then I felt the fuzziness in my head, followed by calmness, and finally numbness. After spending almost 5 months in my room alone eating a little, I was very pale and had lost almost one third of my weight. But that was just a very small part of the “journey”. Then I looked out of the window figuring out if it was really morning? My eyes or brain didn’t really care what time of day it was when I woke up and I was locked by myself in my dark apartment. Spending hours surfing on the internet, figuring out what is happening to me, where this will end was the daily ritual of my day. Then my day begin as I sat there on the corner of my bed staring at the part of my room. That was a prolonge action that could last for days.
(.. a month back..)
“I rushed to my phone which was ringing on the other room. “Lucy!! Where are you? You are missing the classes. If you don’t come today, Mr.A will get really angry and you will fail your GCE exams”, a voice shouted on the other side of the phone. I had already stopped going to my school and the tutoring classes were my only hope for passing my exams, which too I used to miss pretty often. “Okay. I am on my way, (yawns)”, I said, then I hung up. I finally motivated myself and dragged myself to the tuition classes to “learn” something. I put on an oversized hoodie, my earpods, a mask to cover my face and started walking. As I was walking, I felt like I was not covering any distance but actually I was. The world around me felt so big and I felt so small. To avoid that I often used to create a image in my head and focus on that instead of what actually there is around me. (After some minutes.. in the class…) Finally! I am here. A few known faces were gazing me as I was making my way through the room towards the couch. The class begin. That was the most difficult part for me. As everyone were focusing on their work and the course problems, I was struggling to fight my constant fear of i don’t know what and the actual reality. It used to feel like, I was there, between those people, but I was not really there. Deep down I was lost and the person who was there was just the physical avatar of Lucy. Almost an hour passed, I could do everything that i was supposed to do, solve the problems, study the questions, understand what the teacher was teaching, but I was feeling what I should be feeling. After the class was over, I rushed toward my apartment and googled my symptoms. Many terms came up in the internet including “anxiety”, “bipolar disorder”, “depression”, which were completely new to me. OK. I need help. I thought. But what kind of help? I don’t really think I am suffering form anything. I just need my motivation back. I just need my confidence back. I just need my WILL TO LIVE back. I thought. By that that time, I had completely isolated myself from my friends and family and had gotten out from the social medias too. I was all by myself. But trust me, I never really needed anyone to keep me company. In fact ever since a kid, I had me as my own best friend. I used to think the best advice anyone can ever give me is I, myself. So, as a 5 year old naive kid, I had decided Lucy Ayene will be my best friend for life. If I ever felt bad I used to spend time with my best friend ( which was I, myself) and I used to feel good after a long self therapy with my own brain. Most of my life, I never had a complain with myself and I was doing pretty good. But recently, I felt like my best friend is not satisfied with me and i made her disappointed. I was having a pretty low time because for the first time I had lost track of my ‘goals’ in my life. As a perfectionist, that was a big deal. That started a tale of two Lucy Ayene. I started feeling like I have two me’s in me the one who was supposed to be my best friend, is angry and she has turned evil. Where is the real me? I am lost deep down inside screaming for help. And the only person who can help me ( which is myself) has turned her back on me and plotting revenge.”
As the days passed, my mental state started turning worse. I had lost track of my sleep and eating habit. “When was the last time I had slept or ate?”, I used to ask that to myself pretty often. Sometimes, it would be days, sometimes just few minutes. IT was not for being alive anymore. What was the feeling? What were the thoughts? OH wait. Did I had any? I really don’t know. I didn’t know whether I was alive or dead. I didn’t know whether I was a human or just a lump of mass. It had been quite a few months I had interacted to a human in any form. If I told you what was really in my head, you’d never let me leave this place. And I had no desire to spend time in hell while I’m still, in theory, alive.
One day, I woke up by the sound of someone knocking on my door. I opened my door and it was my aunt. She was in shock when she saw me in my “thin” body. After living with me for less than a week, she called my parents to tell them to take me for help. I was taken to the shrink. A curious yet sly looking lady. She just gave me some meds and I was supposed to take them everyday. Oh and after taking meds, something happened. Lucy, what really happened? My emotions heightened. What does that mean? God! Some days I was all motivated and excited to start my life, I used to do everything perfectly. And some days, it felt like the end of the world and I used to CRY all day and EAT. EAT because it felt like the last day of my life and I want to savor everything before I die. I remember the days, when I used to get back in reality and think oh girl I am not going to die today! I just took in so many calories and rush toward the bathroom to puke all i ate. It never stink. Surprising much? No. When the fear of getting fat by the “food” that I had consumed thinking that it was the last day of my life is more, the smell of the food that I just puked put is just the smell of satisfaction. But the fact is, I knew, even if I puked out, I was not going to loose the calories that I had already gained by just eating. So, the first time taking meds, it was horrible.
I was taken to another shrink who gave me different meds this time. What did they made me feel? NOTHING. It was literally NOTHING this time. I couldn’t feel happy, sad, angry, excited, disappointed, motivated or anything. It was like, I was a humanoid robot programmed to live everyday as a “normal human”. You see? Humanoid robots actually learn by interacting and living their days due to the artificial neurons but it was not that for me. So technically, I was not even a robot. After spending 18 hours sleeping, I used to think, Lucy where are you? Lucy are you alive? Is this heaven? Oh wait. Is this hell? No, I have not done any sin, hell is not the place for me, it must be heaven. But it doesn’t feel like heaven. Where are the flowers? Why am I not dressed like an angel with wings? Why do I still have acne on my face? That was just a series of questions. I tired to feel. I tried to feel happiness. I tried to feel sadness. I watched the saddest video on the internet but still felt NOTHING. I watched the funniest video on the internet but I didn’t even smirk. That’s when I opted self ham. To feel. I started running blades on my skin, tearing them, TO FEEL SOMETHING. What did I really feel? Just a pinch. The color of the blood running down my skin was just a shade of red for my eye. The ripping of my skin was just a slight pinch. The thought that these scars will remain forever in my body didn’t even came across my mind. I never experience joy or sadness, it was a complete lack of feeling. I remember earlier, let’s say, I cut my hand, I feel a pinch for a moment, then it was gone.
Is it possible for one to enter sleep and wander while never waking? And if so, for how long can one survive this way? I live, I breath , I am alive. But do I feel …? No. Maybe it’s just sleeping my entire life? or maybe I am already dead. oh yes. I am already dead. Can you bring the dead back to life? Flying through the void of darkness, the only thing you hear is the crying of your own soul. A trapped soul struggling its way to the reality, is like a child born into the darkness of this crummy world.